Nighttime Rendezvous
by FacilisDescensusAverno
Summary: One-shot, set during the Evolution of Mara Dyer, when Noah stays over at Mara's house. M to be safe.


"I was feeling restless, pacing across my bedroom. I could imagine a groove wearing down beneath my feet if I only wore the rug down for a few hours. The way I had been losing time, it would be no surprise if it were midnight already and I had been here for hundreds of minutes without realizing it.  
A soft knock at the door.

Noah.

He had convinced his step-mother to sell some story to my mom about his family being away this week, and in turn she, being a big fan of Noah and sympathetic about his absentee parents, allowed him to stay here during the nights. In the guest bedroom, of course, but still… he was only down the hall. Not far from me at all.

"Mara?" His tone was hesitant. "Is everything okay."

I spun on my heel and stopped my agitated motions.

"I can't sleep. Not right now. Noah…"

He crossed the room in a few steps and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"I know. It's a lot to think about. It keeps me up too."

"Why is Jude doing this?" I murmured softly. I knew the answer: FOR CLAIRE, but it seemed that vengeance for that would be my death, not the constant fear that he had instilled in me. This was not just about Claire, however much he might pretend to himself that what he was doing was just. It was animosity between us because I tried to kill him for what he did. And maybe he did deserve to die for that.

I spoke so quietly that Noah asked me to repeat myself.

"Nothing. I'm glad you're here."

I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his lithe frame and tried to push my fears to the back of my mind. They were constant but they could be forgotten. In certain ways. My head tipped back and I leaned closer to Noah, making it clear what I wanted. His answering smirk was not exactly the answer for which I had hoped.

"Mara, we've been over this. You're still scared and it isn't fair to either one of us."

"I'm not scared," I replied, a little too heated. Make me forget my problems, I wanted to say. If you really want me, you'll let me closer when that's all I want in this moment. I may harbor residual fear of your death but I almost fully believe you will not die. Now let's make out on my bed.

I didn't say that.

"_Mara."_

"I'm not lying. You can tell when I'm lying and I'm not." That was almost true. Could I somehow be convincing enough for someone who could hear people to believe?

He looked at me, both hesitant and stern. I grabbed his hand and pulled him over to my bed, sitting down next to him with our sides pressed together and faced him.

"You're here and you're in my bedroom…" I hedged, hoping that sounded somewhere near persuasive enough. A plus B equals… "What else are we going to do?"

That last one was a bit of a stretch but lately Noah had been staunchly resolute that I was still afraid to kiss him. I wasn't truly afraid; not like I had been once, when I had dreamed he almost died. And I wanted to kiss him. Wasn't that enough?

Noah pulled me closer with a sigh, my back against his chest. He brushed his lips against my hair and whispered to me.

"I can think of a lot of things to do." I shivered as his mouth lined up next to my ear. "But I must admit, you do have a great case. If I were alone in a bedroom with someone as attractive as myself, I think I may feel the same as you do."

I heard the smile in his voice and shoved back against his chest, turning as I did so as to look as his face. Seconds passed and the arrogant look faded from his face. We were on the same level now and I didn't need him to bend down to pull his lips against mine. It was natural and easy to twine my hands in his hair and bring our faces together.

A brush of lips, feather soft, like a cool bed of water.

I didn't want cool. I wanted heat, so I pulled myself closer.

"Mara," Noah whispered, and though I could still hear a hint of a smile, it was a more intimate smile and he pressed our lips back together.

Oh yes, this was heaven. Every second was rush of heat under my skin my heartbeat raced, pushing the boiling blood through my body. Noah can hear this, I reminded myself, and tried to control myself ever so slightly.

Noah's arms were wrapped around my waist and he pulled me down on top of him. Fingertips brushed softly over my cheek and down my neck, shoulder, back, ending on my waist and tracing gentle circles over the skin exposed between my tanktop and sleep shorts.

We rolled slowly and Noah's arms encircled me, trapped me, but only in the loosest sense of the word, because at the moment, there was nowhere I would rather be.

Eyes dark, his face held some emotion that seemed to be a combination of several feelings—longing, self-control, amusement at hearing my heart race—surely that one was in there somewhere. Bent arms brought him closer to me and I felt his body press against mine, every nerve-ending going off in a chorus of beautiful panic.  
His lips brushed along my neck like butterfly caresses and I wanted him closer. I wanted to taste that beautiful mouth and I gasped as it moved down, a trail of kisses. My fingers twined in his gorgeous hair.

Noah pulled his head up and for a moment we stared at each other's faces. I looked at his lips as we crashed into each other. I wrapped my arms around his neck, securing us together as I kicked one leg around his hip.

An image flashed in my mind; Noah lying still on his bed after I kissed him. After I nearly killed him. I pushed the treacherous monster of a thought back down into the watery depths of my mind and focused on the present.

He moaned against my lips and my hands trailed over his back, increasing pace, as if trying to smother the flames covering his skin. I slipped my fingers under his shirt and traced the muscles of his back. Every touch from Noah was the burn of fire, heat and edge and spark, every second was the moment before the flame feels too hot to bear. Nothing felt hot enough. The scorching heat was never enough to satisfy the longing for him in the pit of my stomach.

I moved my arms lower along his backside and gripped the hem of his t-shirt, pulled it over his head. We broke apart from the kiss long enough to remove that article of clothing before clashing back together, fighting to wind closer.

We rolled to the side, facing each other, kisses building with passion. I pressed my palms on either side of his neck, feelings bursting behind my eyelids like a fast motion video. Playing in my brain was every moment of being with Noah. Wanting to crush myself to his lips, to trace his muscles with my fingers, to feel his hips against mine. The longing had crescendoed and we were not magnets pulled but magnets touching, the force still as powerful as ever but finally satisfied.

And unsatisfied, because I never wanted to let go.

Noah moved his hands up my back, under my tank top. I wasn't wearing a bra; I was dressed to sleep. The feeling of his fingers across my bare skin was indescribable, and all too short lived.

We were close, so close, and all this time I had suppressed a panic that was slowly building inside of me. _Dead, dead, he got too close to me... Our lips touch and his breathing stops. I almost killed him because he was near me... I am poison._

With a groan, he broke his lips off from mine, pulling away to settle his breath. I tried to get my heaving gasps under control and failed miserably.

"What... Why'd you stop the kiss?" I asked, my voice raising dangerously with frustration. In place of the panic that came from somewhere deep inside of me, the forefront of my mind focused on the new rising emotion that came in to fill the hole left by Noah's absence. I was starting to feel a little pissed.

"Mara, I know what you were feeling."

"What if I was _feeling_ like making out more? Why can't we go back to that?"

"You were getting scared. I don't want any part of you to be scared. Your reaction to... making out... is getting better, but I won't push you."

"Oh, of course not," I muttered. "Don't push Mara, or she might kill you by accident."

Noah rolled his eyes. "You know I don't believe that happened."

"So get back over here. I wasn't done with you, yeah?" I challenged.

"You were afraid."

I sighed. I knew he was right; I feared Noah's death, but I also didn't want to cease physical contact with him. I scooted closer to him on the bed and wrapped my arms him, resting my head on his bare chest. He laid on his back and closed his arms around my body.

"Ugh. I hate it when you think you're right. There's no arguing to be done."

"I suppose you could think of it that way," he chuckled.

"Why is it never reversed? Always me begging to keep kissing," at this I twisted my face to try to touch our lips but he responded with only a stern look.

"I'll make a deal; I'll sleep in here tonight if you promise not to try anything."

"How do I always end up the bad guy?" I grumbled, climbing away from him to pull the covers back. "Oh and you don't have to put your shirt back on."

"No?"

"No, it's fine this way." I smirked at him as he settled under the sheets next to me and pulled me back against him.

"Sleep well," he whispered and pressed his lips to my neck. A tangle of limbs in a dark room, we slowly drifted into unconsciousness.


End file.
